2023 poetry review

emerging themes, stylistic development, and emotional breakthroughs.

This is by no means a comprehensive (or chronological) list. There are notes scrawled in the margins of my journals, unfinished prosaic ramblings in the Notes app on my phone, and meandering diary entries that can be cut and collaged into a poetic form.

But.

These are the ones that found a way into my Compilation document, which I hope to one day publish into a book. Of 2023, eight poems (one redacted from this post). Of all time, sixty poems. While I am disappointed in my output for the year, I am proud in the strides that I have made in my longer-form fiction, characterization, and syntactical construction. My diary entries have developed in nuance and psychosomatic depth in a way that would make Anaïs Nin proud.

Upon further reflection of my work (both relating to my year and to my life), I find myself continuously most impressed (upon) by religious and mythological allegories, especially as they relate to the contemporary psyche. Here, this only emerges most coherently in “Original Sin” and “Rabies”, although the final feature “I am a broken person” strikes the imagery of Sodom.

*The first two poems are available for free subscribers, but there are another five poems available beyond the paywall; more personal entries.

Antonio Mancini - Resting (ca. 1887)

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ORIGINAL SIN

summer 2023

does lust’s scent trail thick in my wake
or am i beauty for beauty’s sake

the velveteen rabbit’s been caught by the wheel
no notice of death aside from a squeal

mud squelches between my wiggling toes
i must be sure of earth before it goes

and so i crawl from my grave
suck clean the rib from which i’m made

for only a corpse would not slap
the blood-sucking leech from her lap

with my thumb pricked by the thorn
i face the immortal ridicule of scorn

sticky juices dribble down my chin
let her fruit be thine flavor of sin

BIG SPOON

summer 2019 - updated fall 2023

the ground fell beneath her feet
six down below
caught her in between my teeth

arms wrapped ‘round her like slinkies
secrets whispered low
promises caught in our pinkies

monsters salivated under-bed
snarled in shadow
their melodies colored cherry red

decaying fingers bloomed like flowers
a necromancer’s meadow
sprouted in those dismal dawning hours

spider legs climbed the bars of a crib
strings caught in a bow 
a taut noose fashioned from bib

shaking lungs painted the air with fear
fog on the window
her echo of breath is but a veneer
don’t worry baby, i’m here

SUMMER SOLSTICE SHOULDER KISSES

june 2023

the overpass roars
as i tell you i want more
you promise to tease
as i beg you “please”

the sun burns eternal
‘til the moon reigns nocturnal
kiss goodbye the longest day
and with me find some gentle play

summer solstice
shoulder kisses
whispered promises
of future blisses
upon my thigh,
please rest your sigh
upon my nape,
please make me shake

(upon my skin,
please find your sin)

CUCKOLD’S HYMN

may 2023

i’m underneath a trampoline
watching you jump jump jump
watching the black expanse thump
in the way a pulse thrums
watching a muscle twitch 
in a simmering rage
like the incessant nagging of an itch
watching,
(i show my age)

i’m creeping through the in-between
hearing the door hinge creak creak creak
hearing joints popping and the mattress squeak
in the way that guilt melodies
hearing you shriek 
toe caught in the spring
like a fool found in hide-and-seek
hearing,
(i’m a tired old thing)

RABIES

august 2023

i drink the color of His voice;
it tastes like a split lip
that rumbles down my throat
and slaps me on the clit.

He is a squatter in human remains;
my bones are His home
where His words echo and echo
and spill over into rabid foam.

there is a reason they call the ribs a cage;
it’s where my delicious voyeur sits pretty
as His threads and bubbles of spit
mingle in the acid of my belly.

my skeleton is His house of a rage;
an anger that flows in rivers and veins
to dribble and drool over bared teeth,
lips spewing a fountain of acid rain.

(this temple is a geyser of bitter champagne.)

MEDICINE

spring 2023

outside, the light is falling
in my tower, i am crawling
like a child, i shake my rattle
like a widow, i swallow my shackle 

the paint underneath my desk 
is pretty and green and strange
and the woman who lies here
is pretty and pink and deranged

outside, the sky is dimming
in my tower, i am spinning
like a dreidel, ‘round and ‘round
like a corpse, hoping to be found

this pill upon my tongue
is pretty and white and stained
and the woman who gulps it
is pretty and pale and drained

outside, the hills are glowing
in my tower, i am going
like a sun, down and down
like a bride, in her gown

I AM A BROKEN PERSON

january 2023

i am a broken person 
surrounded by broken people
who wander in the hell fissures
where time goes to suffocate

i am a flawed person
surrounded by flawed people
who call for loved ones with blue lips
wrapped around broken glass

i am a damaged person
surrounded by damaged people
whose hands shake ‘round rolled-up dollar bills
writhing, burning, like ants beneath glass

i am a beautiful person
surrounded by beautiful people
who stumble through the night
to watch the sun rise with glazed eyes
and a sob that echoes through empty bottles
their cries spinning like a prayer:
save me, save me, save me
(love me, love me, love me)